Frayed and Tattered
by Sasukeluva 4eva
Summary: It was a failed mission. Not in the sense that she didn't complete it, but it was a failure because one of her own was left behind…


**a/n: I figured a oneshot was called for, seeing as I haven't been updating regularly on my other fanfics, as well as anything 'Naruto-ish' in general, so here I give you guys something to pass the time (mind you, it is rushed, as my uni exams are on, and the shit has just hit the fan minna; like, seriously). **

**But as a warning, I have once again been hit with many plot bunnies (as well as existing ones on my profile that have remained there since sometime last year [I promise I'll get around to them!]…), so I may be again delayed as I write them out (mostly oneshots/twoshots/threeshots, but a few multi-chapter fics as well); hopefully they will be worth it in the end… **

**Enjoy, I guess… if it **_**can**_** be enjoyed. :/**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! That is all.**

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**S**u_m_**m**a_r_**y **_(full): _

_It was a failed mission. _

_Not in the sense that she didn't complete it, but it was a failure because one of her own was left behind…_

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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**C**a_t_**e**g_o_**r**i_e_**s****:**_ Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Romance_

**R**a_t_**i**n_g_**:**_ T_

**P**r_o_**m**p_t_**:**_ DBA, sad music, death of my bestie, the need for solace._

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**S**a_s_**u**k_e_**l**u_v_**a **4_e_**v**a_ p_**r**e_s_**e**n_t_**s_;_**

_**Frayed and Tattered**_

_Sasuke x Sakura Oneshot_

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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With a whisper of the wind, he was gone.

Swept away to Kami knows where.

She honestly didn't know what to think—what to do.

He, her rock, her pillar, her support, her everything, stripped bare and snatched away to some faraway place too great a distance away to be saved.

He was gone.

Forever.

And now she was left tattered, fraying at the very seams as she allowed the last silver thread sliver away into the darkness of the endless night, the droplets of water cascading as tears descending from the heavens as the sky roared its contempt.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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Her feet felt like lead beneath her, the limbs useless to her as she solemnly dragged herself toward the entrance of her home, her village; it didn't seem so homely after what had just unfurled before her.

Although time had since elapsed, the incident happening more than a month ago, the wounds were still agonisingly fresh, blood seeping from the unhealed scar with the empty promise of perhaps easing her heartache somewhat; the real scars, self-inflicted as they were, did little to take her mind off of the excruciating harshness that was reality—he was gone, truly gone.

From her life, from his loved ones lives, from the village itself; normally such an incident would require a larger episode of mourning—what was the point of attending a wake when there was neither a body to present upon return, nor gathering for a funeral when only strangers, who had never met the man, never truly _known_ or _understood_ him, were present, in her wake?

She drew blank—it was a question that simply could not be answered.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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She found herself sauntering aimlessly around the village, her eyes waterlogged and dull as she held back the oncoming tears that threatened to spill; she was a kunoichi, dammit!

There would be no public display of emotion, especially in the wake of those that admired and looked up to her profession; it would only prove as a remaining testament that she was indeed that same little girl she had been ten years ago, always crying and remaining a hindrance to all who knew and or were associated with her.

And that was something she strove to protect; her reputation, and those of her fellow colleagues and friends, were more important than her self-piteous whining.

No matter how much it hurt to bottle it up inside, that was what she had to do.

After all, being a shinobi meant making sacrifices virtually impossible to outlive.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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Her bubblegum locks trailed playfully behind her, dancing with the listless wind as she continued her daily routine; shift work at the hospital from five in the morning to nine in the evening, her weekly grocery shopping frequenting to not at all (what was the point of buying food, when you neither had the appetite nor the stomach to hold it down?), seeing as it would only end up spoiling in her cupboards and fridge anyways.

She rarely went home at all now, choosing instead to use her valuable free time cooped up in the claustrophobic confines of her office, signing document after endless document and writing official reports, filling in quotas here and there, and on occasion, simply placing her head on the desk to think; and before she knew it, she would fall into a restless sleep, only to be jerked from her nightmare as his face plagued her dreams.

There was simply no escaping his memory; he lived on within her heart, soul and mind, no matter how often she just wished she could crush the remnants with her alleged 'monstrous strength'.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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It had been three months since that day, and as she jaywalked through the village's daily market, she could make out the vague outline of two distinct figures in the distance, amongst the fray of mingling marketers bidding off their produce, and eager customers trailing right on through; a flash of orange, a tuft of roguish blonde, a glimpse of crystal blue—that was all it took for instant recognition.

But it was an acknowledgement easily ignored, tossed to the side as quickly as the revelation hit home; she spun on her heel, intent on making her way to a place of quietude, a place where he wouldn't think to look for her, when she heard that same loud, obnoxious holler that had her heart clench painfully in her chest.

"SAKURA-CHAN! CHOTTO MATTE!"

Without waiting any further, the pinkette slipped lithely into the mass of crowded bodies, flexibility allowing her to gracefully disappear from the scene without a trace, leaving a dumbfounded blonde, and an irked comrade in arms gazing at the spot in which they had seen her last.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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She knelt in front of the headstone, _his_ headstone, eyes pooling with further tears as she finally succumbed to the burning ache in her chest, that desperate, clawing need to unleash her pain through the most natural of human ways overcoming her need to protect and maintain her position as a full-fledged shinobi of the Leaf Village as she sobbed loud and hard, her frame jostling with the sheer force of them.

She had failed him; she had failed everyone.

It was a failed mission, but not in the sense that she had not completed it.

No…

It was a failure because she had left one of her own behind.

And that was the true felon, injustice, of the entire situation.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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She sat alone, at the very same place that she had first been formally (if it could be called that) introduced to him; he had leant against the supporting beams of the otherwise closed off space, a laxness in his posture she could have never compared to lilting his otherwise happy-go-lucky, nonchalantly blithe character.

It broke her heart as she slung her legs over the railing, sitting where she believed to have been his traditional spot, so that maybe she could recreate his ever-warming presence in the dimness of the afternoon; it was bordering dusk, and not for a moment had she moved from this sacred meeting place, the one constant reminder that he had indeed existed, and wasn't some delusional figment of her imagination—she came here to relive it all, and more than anything, convince herself that he indeed was still here with her, physically incapable or otherwise.

It dawned upon her that the very habit he had had at that time yet to shake had rubbed off on her; he had stood before the memorial stone, for countless hours, just as she was doing here—it was enough to prod a sardonic, wry chuckle from the back of her throat.

But it was okay though.

Because if it meant living out his life—as well as his daily habits—in order to preserve, _sustain_, his memory, then that was what she would do, for the sake of them _both_.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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She held the railings of Tatami Bridge idly, her legs looped through the opened grates so that she could look out upon the river that trickled downstream below; the petals of the flower she held in hand no longer remained, the silky white (oh so similar to his hair) droplets slowly sifting through the air before landing atop the running river, being tugged under the surface with the force of its currents.

It was so like the way he died—one minute he was there, smiling at her behind that navy-blue mask of his, and the next, he was whisked away, nothing left of his remains to attest to his former state of living. He had been dragged six feet under, with no escape in sight; he had been swept away like ashes scattered to the wind.

He had been taken to the land of the dead _far_ before his time.

She wished that she could have gone with him.

Maybe then her heart would stop aching, reminiscent and bearing semblance to the blood that constantly flowed from her slit wrists.

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**x**X_x_**X**x_X_**x**

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She still sat there when another body filled the void of her gaping heart, gracing her with their unwanted and untimely presence; blood still coated her arms, sluggishly bleeding from the gaping wounds.

She did not wish for another to see this, to bear witness to her discretions, simply because they would only reprimand her for being a fool ruled by her emotions.

They did anything but.

Instead, they took her wrists gingerly between the pads of their palms, pressing a soft kiss to each and every wound made, before they were then progressively covered with thick medical gauze; she vaguely recognised it as her own, but was too busy admiring the skilfulness that the person showed at wrapping bandages with such blindsided meticulousness to care.

Tears still stained her cheeks, but as of now she was not crying; she hazily wished she were, so that then maybe, just maybe, this person would show her further kindness, and help her heal her hurting heart.

"That was a foolish thing to do, Sakura."

It was not the words that stung, but the person that voiced them.

Raising her sullen emerald orbs, the rozen maiden connected gazes with her long time teammate, friend, and childhood love Uchiha Sasuke, his ebony orbs drilling into hers with what appeared to be mild concern and anger.

Something in her face must have betrayed her, because in the next instant, his face had softened from its once stolid, void expression, replaced with sympathy and understanding.

He knew just what she needed.

Without much thought to it, he pulled her head to his shoulder, resting his atop hers soon after, a fleeting smile crossing her lips as she snuggled in closer, basking in his warmth as the afterglow of dusk made itself known; the orange-tinged sky coated them in soft rays of bronze, their normally supple ivory flesh now sun-kissed as they gazed out at the setting sun on the plains of the distant horizon.

Yes it was a failed mission…

_[But_ _one that had reaped its fair share of success as well_.]

…

…

Her tears once again fell, only to be wiped away without hesitation.

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_~Owarimashita~_

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**a/n: Ugh, that fucking SUCCCKKED! DDX  
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**Damn, I need to work on stuff like this more often… -_|||  
**

**I had another ulterior ending that I was initially going to use, but being the idiot that I am, I didn't jot it down, so now I have a total and mental brain fart. **

**It sucks ass. **

**IHML. **

**Urgh, anyway, please show some love! REVIEW! (:  
**

**They would really make my day minna! ;D  
**

**Until next time then!**

**Ja ne! x)**

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***


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